


Moving Forward

by Siver



Category: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective
Genre: Comfort, Gen, Post-Canon, Spoilers, jowd reference, sissel reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 15:36:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10363803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siver/pseuds/Siver
Summary: A post Jowd spilling-the-beans-on-what-happened conversation between Cabanela and Alma who's not overly happy with her husband's way of handling things in the game's timeline.





	

“Thank you for coming.” Alma smiled as Cabanela entered, but it seemed to him, to be weaker than he was used to seeing on her.

“Of couuurse.” He followed her into the living room where there were already two steaming cups laid out. Her call, the weak smile, tea prepared in advance: it was clear she wanted to talk and not about anything nice.

She settled against the couch arm, pulling her legs in, pulling inward and cupping her tea. Definitely not something nice.

He sat beside her - perhaps a little closer than necessary - fueled by concern and suspicion.

“Do you remember any of it?” Alma asked.

There was no question as to what ‘it’ was – Jowd’s tale of an alternate ten years. Cutting straight to the chase, eh? Cabanela took a sip of tea.

“Can’t say I do.”

Not for lack of trying. He believed Jowd’s story and he had no trouble believing he’d done the things Jowd said he did even if Jowd himself seemed uncertain. _What else would I have done, old friend?_ Yet, not truly knowing the events for himself niggled at him like an unsolved case. The phantoms of all that happened kept him awake at night with intangible unease.

“Quiiite the tale he told us.”

“Yes…” Alma replied. “If it wasn’t coming from him or if it wasn’t for Sissel, it would be hard to believe. It still is.” Her brow furrowed and she toyed with her cup. “I don’t want to believe it. It hurts him. He suffered, you all suffered and I hurt for him but…” she trailed off and looked away. Her hands tightened on the cup. She opened her mouth then closed it; her eyes squeezed shut.

Cabanela waited in silence. He’d long learned there was a time and place for prodding. Jowd: always, not always directly, but best to keep pressing in a war of attrition against the endless walls he tried to build. Good job, past self for keeping that lesson in mind. Alma was more difficult to judge, but a far easier egg to crack.

His wait paid off. Alma looked at him, her face pained. “I’m also angry at him and afraid. I … gods I can’t even come to terms with it happening, but I died and he turned himself in for something neither of them did.” Her eyes hardened. “He left our daughter when she needed him most. He left her with Lynne who was barely an adult herself, a young woman who looked up to him. He left you with lies and a five year case.”

She set down her cup to hug herself. “He tried to make himself someone to be forgotten, hated. Surely he couldn’t think any of us could. Could ever… that I would want that. But, in that time,” she covered her mouth, “my death caused…” She closed her eyes, but couldn’t stop the tears leaking out.

Cabanela pulled her into a hug and held her close. Her death wasn’t a thought he cared to entertain. The past couple nights had other ideas, bringing him nightmares of blood, graves and empty eyes. His hold tightened. She was here, upset, but very much _alive_.

Alma buried her face in his shoulder. She shook with quiet sobs and he stroked her hair until she pulled back a bit and wiped her eyes with a sniff.

“I-I know things are different now,” she said softly. “I spoke with Sissel as well… to fill in what Jowd couldn’t, or didn’t.”

“That must have been an iiinteresting conversation,” Cabanela replied. “How did you pull it off?”

Alma gave him a watery smile. “It was in as much as the details could come across through a cat using a typewriter with poor spelling.”

Cabanela laughed. “Is the poor fellow doomed to lessons?”

“He asked actually.” Alma’s smile faded. “But yes… I know from both Jowd and Sissel things are different now. It just… it hurts to know that there was a time he went that route. I hope he really knows better now. I can’t stand the thought of it happening at all, but it did.”

“So,” her shoulders set and she clasped his hand, “I need one thing from you. Please, Cabanela, promise me,” she took a deep breath, “if something ever happens, don’t let him do anything like that ever again.”

“That’s a promise that goes without saying. I’ll keep the big idiot out of trouble. Always.” But, he hadn’t the first time, the thought nudged him. He pushed it aside. Things were different now and should it ever arise (it won’t) he was better prepared to know what was possible.

She nodded. “Thank you.”

He covered her hand with his other hand and grinned. “Besiiides, we have an invaluable ally. How many people have a ghostly cat around to help out? Jowd doesn’t stand a chance against us, baby!”

Alma let out a weak chuckle. Cabanela’s grin broadened briefly before he grew sober. He squeezed Alma’s hand.

“And we won’t let anything happen to you. Not this time.”


End file.
